This is the tour boss

Still pimply and acne, (spelling uncertain provenance) I extracted there a long paperbacks kilometer yellowed coverage announcing the uncivilized world the immediate arrival of the new Beaujolais.
The title corresponded to my disturbingly intense concerns of the moment and I found myself owner of the "new Beaujolais has arrived" without even knowing the name and origin of the author. Thus I entered the full force in the universe of Rene Fallet, populated by gutters which flows into irregular ditches the fruit of all sealed cellars on French territory.
"... The Beaujolais" is the essence of bawdy series falletienne: Debedeux, Camadule, Polouc and Captain Beaujol registered for a motionless trip around the most faded zinc France, placed on the sawdust Poor Coffee . The project is based on a regrettable lack of productive activities combined with the practice of simple pleasures such as fishing, assimilation of toxic products (pie, potted meat, fresh goat cheese ...) and the 'absorption hectoliters of various alcoholic beverages to combat the adverse effects of above mentioned products.
Hesitating on all motorways linking Paris to Pétaouchnok, Fallet stops on the sides and we propose to go pinching the buttocks of life. What we do with joy, for Fallet spoils us, he writes balancing on poetry, popular songs and slang in a language he reinvents father alone, without the comma wiggle ... He does not hunt on the land of Marguerite Duras.
So Fallet is beneficial and indispensable. "The new Beaujolais has arrived" must be consumed fresh, without any restraint, if possible in one gulp. For optimal effect, choose a generously sized bench, unfold the required reading, namely: a wand in fine crumb, a fragrant assortment of cheeses located at some distance from a respectable slice of paté, a tear of Beaujolpif and another at the corner of the eye.
Serve is hit.